


October Nights

by ghostanimal



Category: Danny Phantom
Genre: Angst, Ectober 2019, F/M, Gen, Horror, Suspense, also sam and paulina are friends, danny fucking died, ectober
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-10-25
Updated: 2019-10-31
Packaged: 2021-01-02 21:50:51
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 7
Words: 16,214
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21168440
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ghostanimal/pseuds/ghostanimal
Summary: Ectober 2019 themed story: Danny may have died, but he is certainly not gone. And he refuses to be forgotten.





	1. Shatter & Fangs

**Author's Note:**

> Aye, this is going to be a short 7 chapter story based on mine, lexosaurus and babypop-phantom's tumblr prompts for Ectober week!
> 
> Day 1: Fangs & Shatter

Nobody expected Sam to handle the situation well. It was so sudden, and she felt like she was lying when she said that she had expected something to have eventually happened. That it was only a matter of time. But honestly? Sam never really thought about it. Danny was always so strong and powerful. So honorable and brave. He was the hero, and heroes always saved the day, no matter the cost.

She should have been prepared for the reality that Danny may be seriously hurt from ghost hunting. She really, really should have. But she didn't. It was a concept so foreign to the barely eighteen year old Casper High senior. And the worst had happened, leaving her heart shattered.

Danny died, and he had died brutally.

From what could be gathered, he had died horrifically at the hands of an unknown ghost, and he died alone. Slowly in a dirty ditch during a harsh stormy night, just outside of Elmerton, only discovered by a passing motorcyclist. He was already dead when he was found.

Sam was never clued in to the extent of his injuries, but the funeral had been closed casket. When she requested to see him, one more time, she was quietly told that it was best that she did not. Leaving the last vision of him a touching one, where he told her he loved her and kissed her good night.

She replaced the scene over and over again in her mind as she stared at the window. The last place she saw him. The way he'd lean on her windowsill, as if his weightless ghost half needed the support. His dorky smile, the freckles that were slowly fading as summer was ending. Eyes that always stared so lovingly at her, as they were that night as he had confessed to her once more his desire to get married to her after college. Something she always confessed back.

Sam could think of nothing better than to be married to her absolute best friend, despite them only being an official couple for a month. Six years of a crush, four years of light flirting, fake out make outs, of them being shy and unsure. Such a slow progression had lead to the official spark, and now she couldn't, she _wouldn't_, imagine a life without him. They talked about that future together. Going to the same college right there in Amity Park with Tucker. Potential wedding plans. How they wanted to go follow Dumpty Humpty on tour. Their playful arguments over getting a cat or a dog. The amount of children they'd have, and their names. Moving in together. How Danny was going to finally manage to get her parents to like him. How much his parents loved and accepted her into the family already. That dream vacation to London they planned to take once in college. Truly having a life together as their young love blossomed into a long, happy life together. All of those plans and memories that were supposed to be made were shattered into millions of what ifs.

Warm tears were wiped away by shaking hands. She rolled over to face her wall, forcing herself to sit up. She couldn't do this. She couldn't keep doing this. Get up. Sam had to get up. Maybe get something to eat. Attempt homework. Watch a movie. Her hair stuck up, and it felt greasy. A nice hot bath would likely make her feel tons better. As she rolled her shoulders, she felt them pop. She needed to get up.

She slowly leaned forward, feeling her feet hit the floor as they wobbly supported her weight. The goth purposefully ignored the blank spaces on the wall, dust exposing where picture frames were once hung up. She dragged herself to the bathroom, standing in the doorway. Her hand was so heavy. Too heavy. The palm of her hand slapped the wall and slowly slid to try and flip on a light. It burned the second it flickered on, and she couldn't help but just stare at the bathroom.

What was she doing? Sam couldn't figure it out. The bathroom felt foggy despite no water. A bath sounded less and less appealing. Her knees buckled. She turned the light off, and she began to slump back to her bed.

Sam froze with a soft, surprised gasp as she unintentionally locked eyes with something at her window. Something that had not been there before, masked by shadows and her curtain but she saw what she needed to see. Dark red eyes were staring intently at her with a blank expression plastered on light blue skin. Familiar whitehair, a familiar white and black jumpsuit. His entire form was painted in a light glowing green with buckets worth of a dark brownish-red. Ectoplasm and blood. While those eyes seemed to be from him, Sam wasn't sure. He looked familiar, and she knew who he was. But at the same time, she had no clue who.

The form finally had some kind of expression. He flashed a toothy smile, letting sharp fangs shine in the faint light of her nightstand lamp. His eyes even seemed to sparkle too, but it was far from the warmth that she had experienced before. This one was...almost haunting. It was trying to be charming, but failing miserably. She shivered, but yet she still found herself stepping forward.

"Danny?" she whispered. The form immediately jerked back a foot. "No, Danny," she breathed as she began to quickly walk to him. With every step she took to him, he moved backwards a step. "DANNY!"

Sam got to the window, immediately slamming the doors open, but by then, the form was gone. Cold wind nipped harshly at her skin as she scanned the skies for him. Any sign of a black and white figure zooming as she had witnessed many times before, flying gracefully and with the faint sound of cheerful laughing.

The night was empty and silent.


	2. Tarot & Stalker

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Day 2: Tarot & Stalker

_"Sam, you have to go to school. This isn't optional, get up. You can't keep laying in bed all day. I know it's difficult, but you can't live your life forever in your room."_

Her mom's words rattled in her empty mind as she sat shotgun in Tucker's Jeep. Physically, she felt a bit better. After finally taking a long hot shower, washing her hair and dressing in all black on black, she had a feeling of being refreshed. She wore no makeup, allowing for her dark circles from sleepless nights thinking about him.

They used to fly to school together. The Phantom Express, she'd call it. Danny always held onto her tightly, hugging her close. Despite being a ghost, he always felt so warm. He always made her feel so safe that high in the air.

"Hey Sam, were you wanting to join us after school at the gym? Or Nasty Burger? You could probably just sit in the massage chairs if nothing else."

Sam glanced up at Tucker. Ever since their freshman year, he had grown too. Now supporting a short beard and muscles of his own, Sam admitted that her friend grew up handsome as he now stood as the tallest of the trio-the ex-trio. Two years ago they all got gym memberships and went together, to stay in better ghost hunting shape. Their new routine had become the gym before the Nasty Burger, now a reward for the exercise.

"...I should," Sam said quietly as she pressed her forehead to the cold window, staring as they passed FentonWorks. She'd never be Sam Fenton now. "I need to get out. Do things. Continue on, but I just." She felt hot tears beginning to form. She was glad she opted for no makeup.

"I know, Sam," Tucker said quietly. She felt his hand reach out and grab her shoulder to squeeze comfortingly. "Please come to the gym with us and eat. If you can't do it, I'll just take you home early. I'm just worried, and I know Paulina's been worried about you too."

"Yeah, she's been texting me," Sam sighed. She stared out at the street as the warmth of orange, red and yellow were decorating the streets as the headlights shined on it. It was still dark out, but she could see that leaves were everywhere, sticking to buildings and parked cars. Slight blurs of colored jackets as people prepared for the sweater weather, but the people out at this hour were sparse. Nobody really walked to school this time of year anymore, more people relied on the bus or somebody to drive them.

A flash of a figure caught her eye as they drove past. A familiar red jacket and purple backpack worn by a figure with snow white hair. A black jumpsuit, and piercing red eyes that she could only point out due to the glowing shine. They stared her down. She couldn't look away, swallowing nervously.

"Did you see that?" Sam questioned, glancing to Tucker. Tucker jerked his head around, curiously.

"See what?" he asked. Sam shook her head, leaning back in her seat.

"Nothing, just this kid that, uh...yeah."

Tucker could guess her thoughts, and he gave a small grimace as he looked forward. They sat in silence as he slowed down for a red light, bringing the car to a gentle stop. Sam heard Tucker cough and shift in his seat, sniffling a bit. She glanced over to him to see the faint reflection of a tear running down his cheek.

"...I miss him, Sam," he eventually whispered. Sam's words got caught in her throat, and she simply made a pitiful noise of acknowledgement. The light turned green, and Tucker continued one. "I miss him so much."

Sam's breath came out ragged for a moment as she tried to compose herself, stop herself from crying. There was nothing she wanted more than to tell Tucker to please just turn around and drop her off at home. She couldn't do today. How was she supposed to sit in English class when Danny wasn't going to be sitting behind her, idly playing with or braiding her hair? Where was she going to put her feet up during lunch when Danny's lap was now gone? Who was going to fly her home? The reality of none of this happening today, tomorrow, next week, next month, _ever,_ continued hitting Sam like a battering ram.

"I wanna go home," Sam finally whimpered softly. Tucker's hand reached out for hers, and she took it, squeezing it. He held hers tightly.

"We'll get through it," he promised her. "Just gotta take it day by day."

"What if I can't?" she asked.

"Then you take it hour by hour," he replied.

A rush of guilt flooded her. She knew Tucker was just trying to be strong for her. He and Danny were best friends before Sam even entered the picture. This hurt him too. How selfish of her to constantly stay locked up in her room, mourning her boyfriend when her best friend was also mourning his childhood bestie.

"We can do it," she forced herself to say. She was very skeptical of this.

Tucker let go of her hand to grasp the steering wheel, flicking his turn signal on. He slowed, glancing to assure he was clear to turn into the Casper High parking lot. Sam stared out her window as Tucker turned, freezing as she saw the headlights briefly illuminate a figure. Only a brief glance, but she still caught the red and purple with white. Her heart froze, and she immediately shifted in her seat to turn to look through the back window, but there was nobody lit up in the taillights.

"Whatcha looking for?" Tucker questioned. Sam shook her head, sighing a bit as she settled back into her seat.

"I...I thought I saw a cat," she lied. Tucker frowned, but he didn't comment.

He pulled into a free parking space, and Sam saw the small crowd of students trickling in. After he parked, the duo undid their seatbelts and gathered their things. The cold air hit Sam as she opened the door, and she shivered. She adjusted her jacket, zipping it up as she slipped her backpack on. The hairs on the back of her neck stood up as a unique anxiety filled her, a feeling of uneasiness.

She looked around, but spotted nothing out of the ordinary. Goosebumps still rose all over her arms, and she slipped her hands under her sleeves to rub at them. Sam just must be cold. It was nearly freezing outside.

"Sam, you coming?" Tucker called out to her, and she immediately turned to him. He had taken a few steps towards school, and she hurriedly caught up to him.

"Yeah, I'm just...kinda out of it," she confessed. Tucker wrapped an arm around her shoulders, squeezing her as they began to walk in step together.

"Hour by hour," he reminded her. Having Tucker nearby helped ease some of her anxiety, but there was still something amiss. Even as they entered the school, both sighing in relief as the school had an instant heat to combat the cold October air, Sam could still feel...something. Being watched.

She looked over her shoulder, trying to find anything. Nothing seemed to be there but the normal crowd of students. Her eyes scanned them, trying to spy one that was staring at her, but she couldn't find one. It only made her feel more uneasy, and she leaned more into Tucker as they stopped by their lockers.

Sam stared at the locker. She missed Danny opening her locker for her, with a flick of an intangible finger. Tucker's locker closed, and she felt him pat her back.

"I'll see you in third period," he told her, and she could only numbly nod, glancing after him only for a moment as he disappeared.

A deep sigh escaped her as a shiver went up her spine. Urgency forced her heart to race with anxiety, and she looked around for the cause. Nothing out of the ordinary. Nothing staring at her. Despite feeling somebody's eyes locking onto her with an intense gaze. Her fingers began to fumble with the lock combination, turning it. Ah, fuck. Missed it. Had to restart.

Nervous sweat began to collect on her forehead as she knew an intense gaze was turning into a staredown. She fumbled to turn the lock combination correctly. God damn it, she had to restart. Her fingers were beginning to shake as she tried to hurriedly do it again, a panic beginning to settle in as she rapidly turned the lock, hoping that approximation would get her locker open.

Sam could swear that she could hear the familiar sound of somebody breathing right next to her. Right into her ear, despite nothing touching her to indicate a person was there and standing so close. Even the warm breath was tickling her ear, and she wanted to cry. Tears of fright began to collect as she frantically tried a final time. It didn't work again, and her hand was visibly shaking hard.

"Hey, let me," a gentle voice said, and Sam let out a panicky gasp. She saw Paulina standing near her, but nowhere near where the breathing was. Paulina also stood about her height, nowhere able to spook her like that.

The girl looked concerned for her, and Sam surrendered her shaking hand to tuck into herself. She crossed her arms and shivered, feeling one of the beads of sweat drip down her forehead. Paulina opened her locker on the first time, standing off to the side.

"You okay?" Paulina questioned, cocking her head slightly. Sam shook her head no, but she didn't speak. She simply stepped forward, sliding her backpack off and beginning to exchange it out. "Sam, what's going on?" Sam's throat felt so dry, and despite the breath being gone, she still felt so watched.

"I-I-I dunno," she half-lied. She sniffled hard, wiping her eyes with the palm of her hand.

Sam just wanted the day to be over with, and she stared at her schoolbooks. She forced as many as she could into the backpack to prevent having to be back in at the locker again, but her spider backpack was fairly small. She'd have to carry most of them. But maybe if she just took all of her books home, her mom would let her get away with just being home all semester. Do all of her work there, and have Tucker or Paulina bring it to school.

"Are you leaving?" Paulina asked, glancing into her locker as Sam began to hurriedly take everything she could out. Sam shrugged, sniffling more. The feeling of being watched had died down a bit. Paulina being there, somebody she knew, just being around made her feel better, but paranoia was still at the back of her mind.

"I just wanna go home," Sam managed to croak out.

Paulina seemed to understand, at least somewhat anyway, and she opened her arms for her. Sam immediately accepted the hug, sniffling harder. Once Sam pulled away, Paulina reached into her purse to give her a travel pack of tissues. She accepted it and wiped her eyes before blowing her nose.

"Come on," Paulina told her. The girl dug through her purse until she produced a reusable canvas bag. Like many girls at the school, Paulina opted to just use her oversized purse as a bag, relying on the reusable canvas bag for if she had to lug home a bunch of books. Paulina shook the bag a bit, forcing it to unfold before holding it open for her.

"Thank you," Sam replied quietly.

She began to shove the rest of the books into the canvas bag as her friend patiently held it open for her. Paulina said nothing, simply watching as the goth also began to empty her locker of it's accessories. Pictures, her locker mirror, extra pencil bag, a spare set of clothes. Paulina soon had rested the bag on the floor due to the weight, and Sam folded her shirt to squeeze into the bag.

"Don't forget that," Paulina spoke up, nodding at the back of the locker. Sam stood up, peering into the locker, and she felt her heart race.

It was a tarot card, pressed flat against the back of the locker Sam had tarot cards, but she had never brought them to school before. Neither Danny nor Tucker ever messed with them either, so where…

Sam frowned, reaching into the locker to grab the tarot card. To her surprise, it was stuck. She had to use a nail at the sides to pry the beginning parts of it off, and she soon was able to pull it off. Sam flipped it over to see what made it stuck. It was a sticky green substance. Confused, she sniffed it, only to be hit with an oh-too-familiar scent. Ectoplasm.

She nervously glanced around, but saw nothing. But of course...should she really expect to see a stalker that could turn invisible.

"That's a tarot card, right?" Paulina asked, glancing curiously at it. "Are you missing one from your deck?" Sam shook her head no, and she turned around to see which card it was.

And it made her numb. The Hanged Man card.

Rationally, she knew it wasn't a sign that she was going to die. But that card...it represented sacrifice. It could be read as sacrificing so much, potentially everything, only to receive nothing in return. It always felt like a very bitter card to her whenever she read it. A card that meant you giving your all, only to get nothing in return, for nothing to go according to plan. For ultimately, failure to happen.

She bit her lower up, and she shoved it into her spider backpack. Sam forced a smile to Paulina as she shut her locker.

"Thank you. I'll return the bag as soon as possible," she replied. She slipped her bag onto her back, picking up the canvas bag. It felt heavy, and she knew walking home was going to be horrible.

Paulina shot her an understanding smile.

"Please come over later," she requested. "We'll make some food and hang, it'll be good. I know school's a bit much, but I don't want you to rot away in your room. Just you and me." That did sound a bit appealing...While Sam loved Tucker, most of her memories with Tucker also included…

Maybe a hangout with Paulina was just what she needed.

"I'll call you," she promised. Paulina beamed, and she gave her another half-hug before bidding her goodbye.

Sam shifted to carry the bag with both hands, heading towards the front doors of the school. The second she stepped outside, she breathed in the fall air. It was strangely comforting, but the cold air brought on another feeling. An overwhelming fear came back in a gut punch.

Her head shot from side to side, trying to spy anything in the darkness. Shadows seemed to morph into monsters, their constantly growing and looming forms fueled by her paranoid mind. The typical noises of fall, the wind rustling through the trees and leaves blowing across the ground were now masking any sounds of somebody stalking around. No cars passing, no distant headlights only cemented how completely alone she was right now. Tears began to sting her eyes, and she stood up straight.

She fought ghosts for years. She could manage a measly walk home. This wasn't even a new walk. Sam literally walked this route hundreds of times.

Sam went down the steps of the school, each footprint softly echoing in the now silent streets. It only added to her nerves, expecting a second set of footprints to suddenly appear. She looked straight ahead, only to stop dead in her tracks.

Across the street, on the other side just underneath a lamppost, stood an unmoving figure. Even at a distance, she could recognize a red jacket and white hair. His hand, a white gloved one, was resting on the strap of a familiar purple backpack. There was no more blood or ectoplasm covering his jumpsuit. He had cleaned up since last night.

Without any doubt in her mind, Sam knew, she just knew, that this figure was absolutely fixated on her. Her heart pounded, and she took a step to the side as she tried to back up. The figure's head subtly moved to follow her movements.

Oh hell no. Panic overtook anything, and she immediately turned to run up the stairs and back into the school. With tears freely streaming down her cheeks, she dug around her pockets for her phone. She dialed her mom's number, and the second her mom answered, Sam began to openly cry.

"Mom, please," she begged. "I wanna go home. Can you come get me?"

Pamela was quiet for a moment, but thankfully, she seemed to sense Sam's desperation. Sam looked out the window. The figure had crossed the street and was staring at her. Now closer, she saw those red eyes continuing to stare at her. Not malicious. Not welcoming. Just...watching.

"Alright. I'll send your dad to come get you."


	3. Cauldron & Electricity

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Day 3: Cauldron & Electricity

It was a cliche night; dark, stormy, cold and bleak. Rain pitter-pattered on the roof and against her window, and she already knew from having been caught in it that the water was icy cold and stung her skin. In a way, it was the perfect setting for what Sam was doing.

Absolutely nothing.

She lay in bed, her hair flowed out all around her as she listened to music through a set of headphones. Her fingers fiddled with the wire connecting it to the speaker system, staring blankly at the window. That feeling of being watched never left her anymore. Even now, it was leaving her on high alert as she stared at the only way somebody could be watching her. Her bedroom door had been closed, and she knew her parents were out for the night. Her grandma was downstairs with her friends, and this gave her some comfort. She wasn't completely alone. Sam knew in her gut that she had unwanted company.

But yet she felt so alone, and she gave a chilled shiver as the room's temperature seemed as if it suddenly dropped. Sam twisted the cord around her index finger, anxiously keeping her eyes locked on the window.

Nothing. Absolutely nothing.

But she knew she was waiting for something. What exactly, she was entirely uncertain. Or even when it would happen. No indicators, but of course, Sam wasn't an idiot. She had a very strong suspicion of what was happening, but being right? She almost didn't know if she wanted to be right or wrong, or her feelings on the suspicion.

Her head softly rocked from side to side in tune with the music. Dumpty Humpty's lyrics spoke to her mournful soul in a way that made her heart ache. Danny was so insistent that one day, one day...he and Sam and Tucker would all follow their favorite band on tour. All over the world. The cost was absolutely no issue, as Sam had immediately eagerly agreed to the dream and insisted that she'd pay. It was always a matter of being allowed to take that much time away from home on their own, away from parents.

Which reminded her…

Sam tore her eyes away from the window towards her desk drawer, where the tickets for that summer goal were already laying. Waiting for the trio to graduate so that they can be used for Dumpty Humpty's first concert of the summer in California. Her lower lip trembled. Maybe they could just invite Paulina…

No. They couldn't go on that trip anymore. It was for the three of them. It was hers, Tucker and DANNY'S dream. But could she and Tucker really go without Danny? They'd be short the person in the middle seat of the airplane flight, an empty seat at the show. No half ghost best friend that could sneak them backstage to meet the band. No boyfriend to cuddle up with during the opening act performance. No best friend that Tucker was going to sneak beers with. Those memories...they weren't ever going to be made.

God, it wasn't fucking fair! Danny did everything to protect Amity Park, and for what? For them to hate him, hunt him, slander him, disrespect and openly admit that they wanted to see him dissected. He sacrificed everything, and now he was gone. Amity Park had no clue what the hell they were missing. She didn't want to be here anymore. Maybe she should reconsider that all girl's college her mother wanted her to go to in New York…

Anger flooded her, and Sam ripped her headphones off, letting them fall onto the bed. The music continued to go on, and she went to the desk. She flung the drawer open, grabbing the tickets. Three tickets to fly to California, three to the concert. She clutched them tightly in her fist, feeling hot tears pouring freely.

A small cauldron, filled with pens, pencils, a pair of scissors, just various desk items, was grabbed, and Sam gripped it tightly. The cauldron had been a gift from him. He had found the tiny thing at the flea market with Tucker, and he gave it to her joking that she could properly begin witchcraft now. She dumped its contents all over the desk. Pens and pencils went rolling, but Sam didn't care. She slammed it back onto the desk, and she began to rip up the tickets of a fury of tears and frustration. All of the pieces went into the cauldron.

Sam flung open all the desk drawers, leaving them open and even pulling some fully out to throw behind her until she found what she was looking for. A lighter, originally for the many candles that decorated her room. Her hands shook as she held it, and she reached into the cauldron to grab one of the shredded pieces, barely big enough to hold.

Flickering the lighter until it finally gave her some flame, she set fire to the piece. The fire immediately began to burn her fingers, the paper burning quickly. She dropped it into the cauldron, and she stared as it began to consume the other pieces of paper. She felt as if somebody stood right behind her. That watched feeling was strong, but honestly? She could barely bring herself to care about it. She focused on the white straight pieces began to crumble and turn black as flames turned it into ashes.

There was immediately a little bit of regret. Tucker may had still wanted to go. And maybe it was best to go anyway. Danny would have wanted them to not put their lives and dreams on hold just because he was gone. But past that thin layer of regret was a sense of satisfaction of sorts that she couldn't describe. It was therapeutic to watch the pieces burn. She sniffled, wiping her nose using her nightgown sleeve.

She watched it burn until all of the pieces were just black soot staining the bottom of the cauldron. Slowly, steadily, the flames died as nothing more remained for them to burn. A trail of steady smoke replaced the flames, and Sam half-heartedly blew at the smoke. It flowed against her breath and into the wall her desk faced, reminding her of an ashy version of his ghost sense. Why did everything have to remind him of her?

Her hand waved at the smoke, trying to assure it wouldn't set off any smoke alarms before she grabbed a dirty shirt to use to help her safely pick up the hot cauldron. She took it to her attached bathroom to wash it out.

The water from the faucet caused more steam to rise as she rinsed out the cauldron. Clumps of wet black ash and soot were washed down the drain. Probably not the best for it, but Sam couldn't care less as she used her hand to lightly rub against the bottom to make sure it all came out. She squirted some hand soap into the cauldron, using her fingers to lazily wash it a bit. This was a gift from Danny, after all. She didn't want to see it get ruined because of her own stupid, rash actions.

Her lights flickered, and Sam glanced up curiously. The lights, all of them in the bathroom, flickered once more. And then the electricity went out.

Sam blinked as she touched around to turn the water off. The darkness around her lead to an immediate, eerily silence, and she was scared. The creaking of her house was unnerving. Of course, the house was old, having been in the family for a while. So the noises weren't unusual. But they still made it feel as if her house was haunted, especially with the watched feeling that only grew more and more.

Her eyes soon began to adjust to the new lack of light, and she could see the door to the bathroom, still open and into her room. Sam decided to abandon the cauldron for now in the bathroom's sink, and she put her hand on the wall. Using it as a guide, she went back into her room, and she stood in the doorway.

Her eyes squinted in the dark as she tried to remember the layout of her room. The window was absolutely no help. There was no moon, but the house rumbled as thunder echoed outside. That would explain the power outage. Shortly after the roar, a clap came, and lightning lit up her room for the briefest of moments. Enough for Sam to confidently make her way to her bed to grab her cell phone without tripping on laundry or scattered desk drawers. Her legs and hips met the bed, and she bent over to spread her arms around, patting down her covers for the electronic device. She soon found it, and she held it tightly. Sam unlocked it, and she called her grandmother. Faintly downstairs, she heard the phone ringing.

"Hey Grandma, are you alright?" she immediately asked when the ringtone stopped.

"Oh yes, yes dear. Just a little power outage from the storm," the comforting, familiar voice replied with a cheer that brought Sam ease. Sam felt her body relax, and she sighed.

"Alright, just making sure."

"I'm sure the power will be back on in a moment," her grandmother replied. "Don't fret about it, dear. Rosa and Frida left a little bit ago. When the power comes back on, I'm going to make some tea, you should come down and join me."

Tea did sound absolutely lovely on such a night. And with Grandma Ida? Nobody understood her better than Grandma Ida. Other than…

"I'd love to," Sam confessed.

"Just come on down whenever the power's back then, deary. Or even sooner, you shouldn't be tucked away so much. I miss you watching my shows with me."

Guilt hit Sam. She missed that too, and she nodded, despite knowing that her grandmother couldn't see her.

"I'll come down in a bit," she promised her. "I love you."

"Love you too, sweetie. Be careful."

Sam hung up. She put her phone into her pajamas pocket, and she felt around for her headphones. The music had, obviously, stopped playing, leaving her clueless as to where they had fallen. She patted around the covers once more. The thunder boomed outside again, and a clap of lightning followed. The room lit up once more, and Sam found herself unintentionally staring at a figure sitting cross legged in her bed. White haired, black suit, light blue skin. His eyes were closed.

She screamed, immediately backing up the best she could. Her foot stepped onto one of the abandoned drawers, causing her to fumble backwards. Her back hit another drawer, and she groaned in pain. She kept her eyes locked on red eyes that had snapped open upon hearing her scream. The eyes floated up a bit as the bed creaked.

They moved closer, and Sam scrambled to back up, scooting on her behind. Oh, fucking duh! Her phone!

Her hand shot into her pocket, pulling the device out and turning the flashlight on. The figure blinked, flinching a bit at the sudden light behind shined on him. He now stood barely four feet in front of her. Or rather, he floated off the ground, his body hunched over in a poor posture. His eyes locked onto her, burning intensely and she knew that feeling was from him. It was a haunting look of possessiveness that lit up when he saw that she clearly recognized him. But those eyes lit up for all the wrong reasons, and Sam felt her heart going crazy for all the wrong reasons.

"Sam…" It was indeed, Danny's voice, only worse.

As they all grew older, Danny's voice had dropped to a mature deep tone. A voice that Sam loved listening to talk, that was pleasing to listen to when he'd sing softly along to the radio in her car. She always loved how warm he made her feel when that voice talked quietly to her, right in her ear when he hugged her from behind as they cuddled up together.

This voice did not have Phantom's ghostly echo to it, not the charm of Danny's. It was deeper than both, with a predatory gravel to it that made her shiver. The echo was intensified, and instead of anything soothing, it rattled her to her bones, and him calling her name made her want to cry. And she did begin to cry. This wasn't Danny.

Looking at him, he resembled her hero boyfriend. That white hair that she'd run her hands through, that white symbol she designed. But his skin was light blue, icy, and she knew even without touching him that he'd likely be as cold as true death. Those eyes were no longer warm with love and affection. They were the haunting stare of a stalker.

His head had tilted in concern the second she had burst into tears. Concerned, and he floated closer. Sam stiffened, but she didn't move. She was too frozen and afraid to do anything anymore. The goth resigned herself to sitting on the floor amongst her own carnage, letting tears flow freely.

"Sam...I missed you…"

That voice sent her into a quivering, frightened mess of nerves, and she let out a sob. This figure, it came closer, and she felt too nauseous to stop it. His hand reached out for her, and Sam did her best to shy away from it. But his gloved hand made contact, and she gave a violent shiver. He was so cold. Much colder than her Danny had ever been.

His fingers lightly stroked her cheek, causing goosebumps to rise all over her arms, and she couldn't stop shaking. The figured tried to flash her a comforting smile. But it only resulted in a terrifyingly wide exposure of not just fangs, but all of his teeth being sharp. Sam couldn't look at him anymore, and she turned off her light to leave them trapped in the dark.

"I love you." His voice was trying to obviously copy his previous self's, where it would drop into a sweet and soothing whisper towards her as he expressed his love. But that voice just made it sound like a threatening growl, and she only continued to cry. "Sammy…" God, him calling her that made her absolutely sick to her stomach. "Sammy please...don't cry…babe, what's wrong?"

Sam finally found the courage to jerk away from his touch, rubbing her cheeks roughly with the palms of her hands. Trying to wipe away the touch, and she stared at where she knew he was. His eyes were shining brightly at her, looking at her with a cold concern.

"Y-you're not Danny," she whispered. Her stomach was weighed down with fear. A lump in her throat made her forcibly swallow before she could continue. "You look similar, but you're not my Danny."

Those eyes turned into slits in the darkness, and she could practically feel the tonal shift of the room. The figure, this ghost...he immediately seemed angry. Thunder boomed in the distance, making her jump. The lightning that followed lit up his features only briefly, but she could make out his deep frown and the way his eye twitched slightly.

"Sam…" The figure had dropped any and all concern or care, any attempts to pretend that what she knew had to be a ghostly obsession was just simply love. It let out a low, breathy grumble, and she whimpered. "I came back for you."

That statement just made her break out into a high pitched wail, and her shoulders jerked as she cried harder. Sam wanted Danny back more than anything. But not in this form. Not like this. This wasn't Danny. This was...she wasn't even sure.

"I don't want to go with you anywhere," Sam said, her voice shaking. The figure stared at her. Intense, unblinking. Absolutely fixated, and she found it hard to break away for even the slightest of moments. Too afraid to even properly wipe her eyes.

"I'm not going," it confessed. Ice cold hands grabbed her upper shoulders. Not angrily or posessively, but a very familiar touch. The way Danny used to do when she was crying, and he was about to hug her for comfort. The idea of this thing pulling her into his arms sent her into a paranoid thought process. If he did that, she just knew he would never let go of her.

"Please go," she begged. "Please, just leave me alone."

The hands tried to pull her to him. In for a hug, and Sam snapped from her frozen state. She jerked against him, fumbling out of his grip. Those eyes shined intensely at her. By now, her eyes had become accustomed to the low light of her room, and she could plainly see just how very unpleased this thing was. It kept her frozen, from getting up and just running downstairs to be with the safe company of her grandmother. But to her relief, he, at least, didn't try to grab for her again.

"I promised you that I would be with you forever," it breathed. "And I will be. I love you, Sam. We can still have a life together..."

She shook her head no. No. No, no, no.

"You're gone," she tried to reason with him. "We...I...please go."

"No."

Sam's mind raced as she tried to think of something. She had ghost gadgets all around her room, fuck, fuck, fuck. Where were they? She kept her eyes on the figure, but she remembered how her nightstand had the specter deflector. But she had a few weapons nearby…

She let her eyes briefly break the contact to glance around. Yes! She was close enough to a drawer, a drawer that she knew had a blaster in it. This thing wasn't ...going to be pleased about it. No doubt. But fear was growing and growing, and she had no clue what he was capable of. A reasonable idea of his powers, but this wasn't Danny...who knows what he'd do.

Her body slowly shuffled back a bit, and to her expected horror, he moved with her at the same pace. His hunched form stayed hovering near, unblinking eyes never moving from watching her. Sam kept locked eye to eye with him as she wiggled back until she felt the dresser against her back. She paused, and she did some mental math. How fast could she move? Could she move faster than him? Was it worth it? Did she have to...shoot...or would pulling a weapon scare him off? He was watching so closely...he'd notice any sudden movements.

"...Danny?" It was all she could think of to do. He did nothing but stare blankly at her. "Please back up a little."

The figure, to her surprise, respected the request. Slowly, it backed up a foot. That was enough. That was all she knew she was going to get.

In a flash, she turned to pull the drawer open and frantically searched by hand in the dark for the blaster. An angry rumble before her, and she could feel him come for her. Thankfully, thankfully...the blaster was right on top. Easy, and immediately accessible, and she pulled it out. There was no time to think, and she shot him right in the chest.

A loud howling hiss of pain, and the figure flew back. Sam scrambled to her feet, ignoring her foot hitting another discarded drawer in the dark. She kept her gun trained on him as she quickly made for her nightstand. She refused to turn her back to him as the ghost wisely kept his distance. Those eyes stared in anger at her, and her heart just could no longer settle down.

She reached her nightstand, and she opened the drawer, never breaking the staring contest. Her hand grasped the familiar cold metal of the specter deflector, and she stared at him. It took a minute to build up the courage, but she soon quickly set her blaster down and broke the look to pull the belt out. Anxiety told her that he had taken that opportunity and was coming for her. Her hands shook hard as she fumbled with it.

No sooner than she wrapped it around herself and click it on, she looked up to see Danny's face nearly to hers, less than a foot away. A scream caught in her throat as he gave a low, frustrated grumble, like a chatter. He slunked backwards, continuing to make the noise as he kept watching her. Her chest heaved as she let out another cry, more tears.

Sam shakily sat down on her bed, allowing more tears to flow. She cried silently for a few moments before she felt the bed dip as somebody else sat down. Through blurred vision, she saw the figure sitting next to her. He no longer looked angry, but concerned.

"Sammy…" His voice was still awful to her, and it did nothing to help her anxiety. "I'm sorry. I love you. I just want to be with you. I'll always be here."

It was meant to be a comfort. But it felt like a threat, and Sam felt trapped.


	4. Artifact & Nursery Rhyme

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Artifact & Nursery Rhyme

She knew that she would not sleep a wink that entire night the moment she had somewhat accepted the ghostly presence. What choice did she have when Tucker wasn't answering her frantic, desperate calls or texts, and she couldn't bring herself to contact Jazz. Let her see her brother in such a way.

Even when she refused to watch him watch her, she knew that he never gave up. That he was creeping around her room, keeping an eye on her. Sam was able to occasionally repress the anxiety from being constantly observed, letting her eyes rest and her mind settle, they'd both snap to attention to hear him walking around in her room. It was almost as if to psych her out, as he normally floated around her, hovering over her literally. Despite knowing that by now, he absolutely did not need to breathe anymore, he seemed to insist on doing so heavily.

While he didn't touch her again, thank _god_ for the beautifully crafted artifact that was the specter deflector, he certainly pushed so many boundaries. Twice Sam woke up from a shallow sleep because that gut fear of being watched was so overwhelming that she had to look. Her eyes would see only him, floating as close to her as he could without being shocked. Red eyes staring right into her purple ones, always blank and void of anything. The lack of something almost scared her more than having something malicious. He was a hollow shell of the boy she loved so much before.

Sam just needed to get through the night until she could meet up with Tucker again. Of all the times for Tucker to ghost himself from social media and to be unreachable. However not unusual of him ever since…

She just had to get through this night. She could survive the night. She had to. Sam had been through worse and battled worse, and all she had to do was survive the night. This she'd repeat to herself over and over, but the more she had to say it, the more doomed she felt.

The worst part came at the stroke of midnight, the witching hour. She, of course, couldn't sleep. Not when she knew that he was staring at the back of her head as she laid facing away from him on her side. From an earlier creaking and shifting on fabric, she knew that he had made himself comfortable on Danny's favorite armchair. The armchair that he'd always claim whenever they hung out at her house. Sam focused on staring at her bedside alarm clock as it informed her of the hour.

"Sammy?" his voice came in a whisper from the darkness behind her, and she shivered in disgust. "Are you awake?"

Sam was hesitant to answer. Part of her told her that she should respond. Otherwise he may get angry, and he'd lash out. Her Danny would never but this...this definitely wasn't Danny. And he had already proved earlier that he wasn't afraid to lunge at her. With what intentions? She could only guess, but that look in his eyes made her sure that it wasn't good. But overall, she knew that continuing to feed into his actions, responding to what he said or what he did would only encourage it's hauntings, make it more determined to be near her.

The figure shifted, and she knew he stood up as the floor creaked. He took steps towards her, and the bed dipped. Her eyes teared up with fear as she shifted to scoot closer to the edge of the bed. She could feel the distinct dip of him crawling on the covers over to her.

Like before, he was getting as close as he could without touching her. She refused to let herself shake, despite feeling his cold aura the closer he got, the more he leaned in. His heavy breathing was soon right in her ear, and out of the corner of her eyes, she could see a red eye staring right into her, white hair hanging over and into her direct line of vision.

"Sammy?" it repeated itself in a breathy tone. "Are you awake?" She swallowed hard.

"...Yes…" she finally answered. She was worried about what he'd do if he saw her clearly still awake but refusing to respond. Sam could feel his grin. His hand hovered over her, making the motions he would if he could stroke her hair. Thankfully her belt was keeping him at a cautious distance, and so he settled for the odd gesturing less than a half a foot away.

"There's no need to be afraid, Sammy," he spoke softly. She could feel him shift behind her to fully lean over her using his ghostly floating to literally half-hover over her. She took a deep, shuddering breath to try and collect her nerves as she could see fully over her. Casting a shadow and causing her vision to be full of his white hair and light blue skin. "I'll keep all the ghosts away. Please...sleep. You have school tomorrow."

Sam was absolutely exhausted, and her lower lip quivered. Indeed, she had school tomorrow. But how could she, how could _any one_, sleep when being watched so intensely. He was who she was afraid of. How could she get him to just _go away_.

"...I'm trying," she said slowly, and her mind struggled to find something that would convince him. "But you're really distracting. You should go home." Out of the corner of her eyes, she could see him glaring.

"I am home," he insisted. Sam pulled her covers over her shoulders, sinking into them more. "You're my home. My moonlight…"

"To the Ghost Zone," Sam said sharply. "You can't stay here." The ghost's upper lip snarled back, and she froze upon seeing the fangs his ghostly form had acquired. He looked absolutely insulted, and she could see him shake violently before he seemed to snap from it. He blinked before staring at her.

"I won't leave you," he replied. Sam's grip on the covers tightened. She began to fear that the anti-ghost artifact, the only thing keeping him from dragging her off into the night, would power down or break during the night.

"Then back up. You're crowding me, I can't sleep."

The figure frowned, but he did as he was requested, reluctantly floating up towards the ceiling. Sam felt the smallest of relief as he pinned himself against the ceiling. Sure, he looked like a sleep paralysis demon the way he clung to it, never breaking his gaze, but least that put him about six feet away from her.

Sam turned onto her other side, finally feeling comfortable staring at the old armchair. Her eyelids drooped, and she softly exhaled. Disturbingly, she was already becoming used to him watching. Her room fell into false peace. The rain was still going, but the rhyme was a comfort. The thunder no longer was roaring, and the power had returned hours ago, but the goth always slept in complete darkness.

"Do you need help?" his voice broke the silence. Sam didn't reply. "Falling asleep?" Sam said nothing, and she heard a humming from him.

The hum was a tune she knew, but didn't quite recognize. It was eerie, his deep ghostly graveled voice making what she could at least tell was a childhood tune into a disturbed echo that filled her room. Sam pulled the blanket over her head, trying to block out the noise. But it only got worse.

"Ring-around the rosies, a pocket full of posies," the melody hauntingly began to come out. Sam shivered under the covers. "Ashes, ashes, we all fall down." And he didn't stop there, instead continuing the nursery rhyme. "The king has sent his daughter; to fetch a pail of water. Ashes, ashes, we all fall down." She took a deep breath. She just had to last until the morning, until she could meet with Tucker. "The robin on the steeple; is singing to the people. Ashes, ashes, we all fall down."

She threw her covers back, sitting up and staring at him. He stopped, staring back at her. Sam narrowed her eyes tiredly, shooting him a dirty look.

"What are you doing?" Exhaustion fueled her newfound anger. His head cocked in confusion.

"Singing you to sleep," he replied, as if it was obvious. Sam huffed.

"It's not helping," she snapped, and she rubbed her eyes. She had to go to school tomorrow. When she looked to him once more, he was frowning.

"Sammy," his voice took on a snappy tone back to her. "Why are you so upset with me? I'm just trying to help, Moony." Hearing him call her that, Danny's nickname for her, visibly made her sour up in disgust.

"You're not Danny," she told him. She put her hand over the glowing center of the artifact keeping her safe, looking coldly at him. His frown deepened as his glare turned icy as well. "You're not him. You're Danny Phantom, but you're not, you're just _not_ Danny Fenton."

"I am," he hissed. She heard the ceiling crack as the ghost dug glowing fingers into it. Her heart sank. He couldn't touch her. But he could certainly still attack her from a distance. Fear bubbled once more in her chest. "I _am_ Danny Fenton, I am your boyfriend who loves you more than anything, and I will never let anything happen to you." It was not the loving comforting promise he'd tell her softly whenever he hung out at her window in the late hour. It was absolutely a threat.

"No, you aren't." Sam summoned any courage that she could find. Her grandma used to say that boldly declaring that they weren't welcome would often ward off spirits. Sam bit her lip. It was...worth a shot. "You aren't welcome here. You're not my Danny, and I want you to leave."

His eyes snapped wide, and an angry snarl exposed so many sharp teeth that were lit up subtly by the red glow. He opened his mouth, and he screamed.

Sam curled up on her side, slapping her hands over her ears as she began to cry again. The voice shook the room, his ghostly wail causing that horrible echo to crack as he screamed in an agonizing anger. His pitch unsteadily would rise to a shriek before dropping to nearly a growl. It felt like it would never end.

It did, and her ears rang by the time she finally let go of her ears. The figure was breathing heavily, his chest heaving as he glared at her. His fingers were still glowing and dug into the ceiling.

To her horror, she heard footsteps coming up the stairs. Slowly, but steadily, and a frantic voice calling for her.

"Sam! Sam, what's going on!?" her grandma called out. Sam froze in fear. Oh no. Oh no, she couldn't let her grandma get involved in this. She could barely walk.

Enough was fucking enough. Sam met her stalker's eyes, and his anger dropped in surprise upon seeing how pissed she had become. The teen flung herself towards her nightstand, for her blaster, and she picked it up. Aiming it for him, she began to rapid fire shots at him. His eyes grew wide, and to her horror, instead of flying, he opted to crawl along her ceiling to dodge.

"GET _OUT!_" she screamed. She didn't bother pausing, continuing to blast at him. The figure crawled along the ceiling quickly towards her window, that haunting low chatter emitting from him before he finally phased through the window and left.

Sam dropped her weapon, bursting into a loud crying. He left, but she knew he wasn't gone. A glance at the ceiling saw his crawl pattern to the window, the ghost having left ghost ray burns in his path. As well as her blasting pattern.

"Sam!" her grandma opened the door, and Sam felt horrible. She looked so frazzled as she turned the light on. Sam scrambled out of bed to rush for her, pulling her into a tight hug. "Oh Sam, are you okay? What on _Earth_ was that?"

Sam couldn't answer. She could only cry.


	5. Scarecrow & Grave Robber

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Day 5: Scarecrow & Grave Robber

Tucker had missed that day. He had finally texted her back at eight that morning when Sam was already anxiously waiting at the steps of the school. He said that he simply felt too depressed to go that day, and that his mom was letting him take a mental health day. Boy, could she ever relate. Sam had to rely on her grandma to motivate her out of bed that morning, and it was not an easy task to do.

But she had to force herself to go to school that day. It was the last place she wanted to be, but at least she'd be surrounded by people. At least he would be attached to her and here, instead of at home with her vulnerable grandmother and parents. Being in a crowd would also make it much harder for him to catch her alone and do anything. Her dad had driven her there, cheerfully talking about nothing and being oblivious to the cold air that had origins in the ghost that sat invisible in the back seat. Sam almost found it comical how her dad missed that Danny, even as a haunting full ghost specter, had buckled his seat belt. Tucker still agreed to meet her at the cemetery after school, then give her a ride home. Especially after she was able to spit out part of what had happened. She spared him some of the details for now, but she did warn him to wear his specter deflector to their hang out. Just in case.

Because she knew that this figure would absolutely not leave her alone that easily. And once Tucker was fully in the loop, she was afraid that he'd be a target next. Sam merely prolonged the inevitable obsession from continuing to escalate.

The feeling of being watched was mild all that school day, but it served as a reminder of his constant looming threat. He was keeping his distance, cautious and unsure of what she had planned after her freak out against him. Sam wore the specter deflector under Danny's oversized NASA sweatshirt as a precaution and kept a blaster strapped to her thigh underneath her knee length skirt as a warning.

Her eyes watched the rows of houses, desperately assuring herself that she had some kind of comfort and help within their walls. She spied a few people home in the windows, a few scarce people in their driveways as they returned home from work or some errand, several people driving past her. Kids' screams of excitement filled some sections of the neighborhood as they played in their yards. It put her at some sort of ease, that, in theory, somebody would be a witness to that looming presence that was following her. She could feel it, his gaze. He had to be invisible, but he was close.

A scarecrow caught her eye as she began to approach the shopping district. It smiled cutely as it stood propped up in the flower bed, leaning on the shop's sign. The scarecrow was just another part of that shop, _Aloe There!_, and their regular fall decorations. It was one of Sam's favorite shops, a small family owned business that had been around for as long as she could remember. She found herself stopping in front of it.

The small local greenhouse and store that she always got her supplies at, where she'd drag Danny and Tucker to. Just three days before he died, Danny had taken her there to get some new lighting for a special plant she had bought. Her boyfriend had dorkily brought her a mint plant during his silent fit of boredom while she shopped, expressing how they were mint-to be. At the time, she had rolled her eyes, telling that idiot to put the plant back where he found it.

Now she'd give anything to hear another stupid pun.

She stared at the scarecrow. That stupid smile reminded her so much of Danny. The adorable charm, the bright blue buttons shining. It reminded her of that plant. Her fingers grasped her backpack straps. She absolutely _needed_ that mint plant.

Sam made her way into the shop, hearing the familiar bell ring. The store was a bit too warm, as always, but it was like it melted away her grief and troubles. If only for a short while. The shop owner, a plump grandmotherly figure, brightened the second she saw her. She stopped stocking shelves to brush her dark green apron. As usual, the shopowner's bored fifteen year old granddaughter was behind the counter, watching videos on a smartphone and only mumbled out a half-hearted greeting.

"Hello, Sam!" the owner greeted warmly.

"Hello, Mrs. Addison!" she replied cheerfully.

"Do you need any help, dear?"

"No, ma'am!"

"Alrighty, hon. Just call if you need me."

"I will!"

Sam knew where everything was. She had visited this shop countless times, and she knew exactly where to find the plant. A tiny, unimpressive plant. It wasn't a good idea to plant it now. But she knew it'd survive the cold weather. Mint, like Danny, was very strong and stubborn. It'd just remain dormant for the winter.

Regardless, she picked up the cheap plastic pot that held it, hugging it tightly to her. She also found a cheap hand shovel, and she brought them to the counter. The bored teen put down her phone and began to ring up her items.

"Will that be all for you, Sam?" she questioned.

"Yeah. No bag or receipt, and debit card please," Sam answered before it could even be asked. The teen simply nodded, swiping the card and handing it back. Sam put her wallet and the shovel into her backpack. The receipt printed, and the teen tossed it in a trash can behind the counter.

"Have a good day," she told her, and the teen immediately returned her attention back to her phone. Sam hummed in return, picking up the plant and holding it to her chest.

After a brief goodbye, she continued on her way. The now distinct coldly feel intensified around her, and she scowled. Sam didn't break her pace.

"Go away. Cold air's bad for the plants," she grumbled.

"...You bought the mint." The invisible voice sounded surprised and a bit confused. Sam stared down at the dormant plant.

"...I did." There was no hiding her impulse buy. Not that she had any doubts that he had watched her pick it out and purchase it anyway.

Sam could feel the air shift near her arm, as if he was going to grab her. Only to stop suddenly.

"...You really did miss me."

Sam bit her lip, and she refused to reply. She picked up speed, continuing to walk quickly towards the iron gates of the Amity Park Cemetery. It was still so hard to believe...only weeks prior, she watched Danny be buried in his final spot. The last place she truly saw him, the real him.

Sam shivered as she felt the faintest ice cold air gently hit her back, and the forced breathing became very audible to her. Not this...thing that kept following her.

Tucker's car was already parked in the lot, but he wasn't there. Sam didn't bother breaking her stride, going up to the gate and just pushing it open to slip inside. She made her way through the rows and rows of headstones, absentmindedly taking note of the odder names of those buried anywhere from hundreds of years ago to barely a week ago.

The cemetery was sorrowfully beautiful, always so well landscaped and made for the perfect spooky setting. The woods that sat just behind it held fond memories of her and her friends exploring them as kids. The leaves were becoming bare as autumn had continued, leaving scarce to the imagination of what was hidden there. Danny used to tell them that the woods were haunted and full of ghosts when they were little. Of course, Sam believed him. He was from the ghost hunter family after all, and even though Jazz had always scowled and insisted at the time ghosts didn't exist, the irony of those memories made Sam smile sadly. A painful ache and the cold that followed her made her, despite all the wonderful memories they made for her, silently wish that ghosts were truly just a myth.

As Sam walked deeper into the cemetery, she saw the familiar outline of her best friend sitting next to a headstone. Relief washed over her at knowing that she would not be alone much longer, and she broke into a jog towards him. Tucker paid her no mind, staring at the headstone: _DANIEL JAMES FENTON, BELOVED SON AND BROTHER_. He was muttering softly to it, and she could tell that he had been crying. He also clutched some tissues in a shaking hand. To her relief, he had heeded the warning she gave him when they were agreeing to meet up. He, too, was wearing a specter deflector.

"Hey Tucker," she greeted him quietly. Sam set the plant next to him before she wrapped her arms around his shoulders from behind. She squeezed him tightly, resting her cheek on the top of his head as she felt his arm grab her arm to squeeze. Sam stared at the headstone with him as they fell into silence.

The trio was back together again.

Sam gave a deep shaky sigh. She could feel him nearby. A rush of cold air passed her, and she shook a bit. Her arms wrapped tighter around Tucker in light fear before letting go to sit next to him. She dug through her backpack to pull out the shovel.

Tucker said nothing as Sam dug a small hole next to the headstone. With an expert ease, she replanted the mint into the ground. Pushing the dirt around it and patting it down, she spoke quietly to the plant. About how lovely he was, that she knew he was dormant now but that come spring he'd be so handsome. In her mind, she already had named him. His name was Dean. The name Danny always brought up wanting to name any son they'd have in the future. A name she always jokingly teased him for, because she honestly loved the name too.

"So, wanna give me the deets on what's been going on?" Tucker finally spoke up when Sam had shifted to sit back next to her. Sam said nothing for a moment, staring at the plant. He took her hand, and she finally began to talk.

With every word, Tucker got noticeably more and more disturbed at what she had to say. His grip on her hand would tighten as she recounted her night of horror. She tried to focus on Tucker, but she could still...god that watched feeling. Sam knew it was an icy hot glare of anger as she told the story. As she neared the end of her explanation, she could see Tucker violently shiver with her as an unbearably cold and unnatural wind hit them.

"Sammy," his voice finally spoke up, and she saw Tucker freeze upon hearing it. He didn't have to say it. She could see the look plastered on his face to know that the mere voice was terrible to him as well. His hold on her hand was firm.

Again, her free hand went to her hip to make sure the precious specter deflector was on. It was. Cold breath blew against her cheek, but she kept her focus on Tucker. His face paled, and she could see his eyes widen. She knew why. This thing made itself visible to them, and she could see out of the corner of her eye his hand. It moved as if he was going to cup her cheek, but keeping his distance for his own safety.

"The gang's back together," he said, and Sam almost felt bad at how...happy he sounded. She turned to glare at him as she let go of Tucker. She shifted to stand up.

"No, the gang is not," she replied coldly. Those red eyes darkened at her. "The gang involves Tucker Foley, Sam Manson, and Danny Fenton. You are not Danny Fenton."

"Why are you so angry at me?" he frowned. "Sam, I love you. You love me, remember?"

"No I don't!" Sam snapped. Tucker got to his feet as well. "I loved Danny Fenton! You're not him! You're somebody entirely different! Something that won't leave me alone! That's obsessed! You need to go away! I don't love you because you're not Danny Fenton!

A deep, angry chattering noise and it moved a few feet back in an angry jerk. His eyes glared at them both, glowing brighter and brighter as he raised his fists.

"Is this the fucking thanks I get for saving you all these years!?" the voice shrieked with a soul piercing tone that struck immediate fear into her core. The haunting echo was bad, and it only amplified the terror. "I fucking died to protect this ungrateful town! I did everything to be a good boyfriend and friend! I love you, Sammy! I died doing what I could to protect you, to make sure no ghost ever came to harm you, and I'll be damned if I be forced to leave you again!"

"Dude, you need to leave her alone!" Tucker shouted, scrambling to stand closer to Sam. He grabbed her hand again protectively, half-standing in front of her. "You were Danny Fenton once, but not anymore! You gotta go!"

"Tucker, you better fucking move before I end you!" it snarled.

"No!"

A blast hit the ground two feet in front of them, causing them both to fumble back in fear. Sam's free hand grasped the back of Tucker's shirt. This was the first time this...this thing actively used an attack against her. She could tell that it was a warning shot, but it was still so close. She could smell the grass as it smoldered from the blast. He was escalating. Fast. She swallowed hard, and she lightly pushed Tucker to the side so she could properly face her spectral stalker.

"You're not Danny Fenton!" Sam screamed. "Danny Fenton would never hurt his best friends!"

"Shut up, shut up, shut _up_!" The figure slapped his hands over his ears, closing his eyes tightly and roared in anger. "I AM Danny Fenton!"

"NO! YOU! _AREN'T!_" Sam stomped her foot with every scream as her hand ripped out of Tuckers so she could fling her arms wildly to emphasis. His eyes snapped open and gave her the coldest look she had ever received. Her knees nearly buckled.

"I'll prove it," he hissed.

The figure shot into the ground, and Sam's heart continued to race as she stared. It wasn't over. It couldn't be over. It couldn't be the end.

A hand shot out of the ground, akin to the start of a cliche zombie movie. Sam felt all the color drain from her face as she grew so, so cold. Soon, an entire body began to emerge from the ground, along with a horrific smell that instantly hit her. Despite having never truly smelled it before, Sam had a very good guess as to what it was. Death.

"Oh god," Tucker's voice came out in barely a whisper of horror. She felt him wrap an arm around her shoulders, pulling her to him as a hand clamped over her eyes before she could truly see anything. Sam was too numb to stop him, and she didn't want to. Sam could feel Tucker shake as he clung to her tightly. "Sam, don't look."

Sam could hear an odd rattling and lots of cracking, with terrible groaning and wheezing. The smell was overwhelming. She fumbled a bit as Tucker took a step back, but she was quickly able to walk back with him. Her best friend's breathing was short and fast. Nearly a panic attack.

"...Is it bad?" she dared herself to ask. Her fingers began to cling to his shirt. Tucker swallowed hard.

"...Just keep your eyes closed," he practically begged. He took another step back, and Sam fumbled to follow. That smell was either getting closer, or it was getting immensely worse. Either could be true. Sam felt Tucker's breath on her ear, as he desperately whispered, "Sam, reach into my pocket and pull out the thermos. Trap this thing."

Sam's hands immediately began to pat Tucker down blindly. She soon was able to locate his pocket, feeling the familiar metal container. Grabbing it, she pulled it out and uncapped it with shaky hands. Straight ahead, she heard angry, breathless groans. Something came towards them. She could feel the grass and leaves being trampled. Tucker forced them both to take another step back.

"Sam!" Tucker's voice was full of panic.

Sam fumbled with the thermos, letting the cap fall to the ground as she held it up. Tucker's hold on her loosened so she could properly aim, but she was still aiming blindly. She pressed the single button of the thermos, and the familiar jerk of the invention working. Her ears strained for the familiar noise of a ghost being sucked in. Their angry screams, the invention powering down. But none of it came. It just kept going, and Sam gestured the invention around. Maybe she wasn't aiming right.

"It's not working!" Tucker seemed more panicked, and it caused Sam's heart to thud hard. "It's not sucking him in!"

But it worked on ghosts...and Danny was a ghost...It never worked on him when he was in his human form but he was a full-Oh god.

Part of her had already guessed, but the subtly confirmed reality petrified her. Her free hand grabbed Tucker's shirt, grasping it tightly in her first.

"What do we do?" she asked. Tucker made them step back once more.

"Stay BACK!" Tucker barked, causing Sam to jump. In her ear, he whispered, "Do you have anything?" Sam perked up.

"Yes!" she replied eagerly. She pulled her skirt up a bit to grab the blaster, and she handed it to Tucker. He accepted it.

"I have the Fenton Fisher in my glove box and some towels and blankets in the trunk," Tucker told her quietly. "Please get them."

Sam felt him turn her around, and he took his hand off her eyes. She blinked as she faced the parking lot, her vision adjusting to being able to see again. Tucker's hand slipped into hers, giving her his set of keys. She glanced down at them, and she clutched them tightly in her hand.

"Don't look back at us," Tucker told her. His voice soon became distressed, but angry. "I told you to stay BACK!"

An angry wheezing and stomps on the leaves, more horrible cracking and snapping. Sam didn't stick around, and she quickly made her way to the parking lot. Her mind raced as she half-jogged down the path to the gate of the cemetery. She quickly opened it and slipped out, hurrying to Tucker's car. She retrieved the Fenton Fisher and opened the truck. She draped a large, worn blanket over her arm before shutting the car and locking it.

She heard the blaster fire. She snapped her attention to the hill in worry. There was no screaming or noises from Tucker or...him, that she could hear. Sam quickly raced her way back up towards her friend.

Tucker glanced behind him as Sam approached, and he motioned for her to come as he shifted to be in the way. So she couldn't see. And she kept it that way, primarily watching the ground as she stepped forward. While she rationally knew what was there, pretending that she didn't made her feel better.

She looked up to watch Tucker as he grabbed the Fenton Fisher from her. He handed her the blaster, and she traded with him. His other hand grabbed the blanket, and he began to walk away from her towards the figure. He tossed the blanket onto the figure, covering his face and upper body.

For the first time, Sam let herself look, and she felt sick. The figure was not in the jumpsuit as she tried to convince herself. Instead he sported the dark gray suit that they had buried her boyfriend in. The skin of the hands was a sickly and bruised color, the fingers distorted as they jerked to try and remove the cover. The corpse moved slowly and with that sickening cracking accompanying every gesture as the figure overshadowing it forced activity despite the rigor mortis. It had stupidly trapped itself, stubbornly refusing to leave to save itself. Thankfully it allowed Tucker to quickly wrap it in the Fenton Fisher before it could do anything.

Once wrapped, Tucker tied it off the best he could. He took a step back, unraveling the line a bit. They both stared silently at the figure as it continued to move and crack. To Sam's relief, when Tucker wrapped the line around him, he unintentionally made it to where the blanket wouldn't slide off. Sam didn't know the extent of Danny's injuries before his death...but based on Tucker's reaction, it wasn't a sight she wanted to see anytime soon.

"We need to get him out," Sam finally spoke up. Tucker stared at her, his eyes occasionally flickering back to the covered form as it jerked violently against him. He kept a firm hold onto the line.

"How?" he questioned.

Sam stared off at the woods, thinking for a moment. She pointed to them.

"I have an idea. Let's go there, more private," she said. Tucker glanced behind him to where she pointed, and he shot her an odd look, but complied.

He made a clicking noise, tugging on the pole. The form reluctantly took a step forward, the cracking making Sam's stomach churn. She reluctantly turned her belt off, and she got behind the figure to give it a push. It would be a slow process to get to the woods.


	6. Candlelight & Exorcism

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Day 6: Candlelight & Exorcism

Flink. Flink. Flink.

It took a few attempts, but Tucker soon used her lighter to set fire to the candle's wick. Sam paid no attention to it, instead trying to keep her focus on the thing in front of her. Not once had it stopped moving and jerking, trying to escape. Never once trying to just leave the body of the beloved son and brother that it had stolen from the grave.

This wasn't the fault of the Fenton Fisher either. Sam had trudged back to Tucker's car to grab his emergency car bag. The bag was stuffed with the basics; medical supplies, emergency matches, car straps, spare set of clothes, the usual. The car straps were currently keeping the thing strapped to a tree, not the Fenton Fisher. Tucker even told him as they had tightened the straps that it was only the car straps. They unwrapped the Fenton Fisher from him. It was all reeled back in and resting, folded in the bag that now laid near Sam. Those simple car straps meant that this thing, this horrible specter, was free to leave anytime it wished.

But it stubbornly refused, continuing that horrible wrenching and breaking the corpse's bones with breathless groans and wheezing.

"It sounds so awful," Sam commented, frowning as she stared. They kept the blanket over his head. Both on Tucker's suggestion that she wouldn't wanna see, but just knowing that he couldn't directly see her brought Sam some relief.

"The smell is even worse. Peeyew!" Tucker made a face as he waved his hand in front of his, trying to get the smell to go away. He reached into the bag to pull out his cologne, and he began to spray it at the corpse. Sam gagged.

"Is that the stupid Foley cologne!? Tucker, that smells even worse!" Sam complained with a scowl. She pinched her nostrils closed and began to breathe through her mouth. "I dragged the candles out here for a reason! Just give them a minute."

"I thought you brought them out here to make this whole thing a little more spooky?" Tucker lightly tease. Sam rolled her eyes. He sprayed the corpse twice more before tossing the can back into his bag. He sighed, crossing his arms and staring at the strapped figure. "So...you think this'll work? Exorcisms are for demons, aren't they? Would they even work on an overshadowed person?"

"...I don't know what else to try," Sam confessed. "I know there's...probably something at FentonWorks, but I couldn't…"

Tucker simply nodded. They couldn't go to Jazz for help. It just wouldn't be right to expose her to this horror, to force her last memories of her brother to be this...thing that wasn't really her brother. It was bad enough that they were having to deal with it.

He bent over to pick up the Fenton Thermos, uncapping it. The teen adjusted his stance, holding the thermos up as he prepared himself. He glanced over to Sam. She unlocked her phone and pulled up the webpage once more.

"So...you ready?" Tucker questioned. Sam exhaled deeply.

"Ready as I could ever be," she said. Her eyes scanned the words before her on her phone, and she began to speak, slowly as she pronounced the words the best she could. "In nómine Pátris, et Fílii, et Spirítus Sancti. Exsúrgat Deus et dissipéntur inimíci ejus: et fúgiant qui odérunt eum a fácie ejus."

The cracking noise stopped, and her eyes flickered up. The figure had stopped moving. While the blanket covered his face, she could see the outline that implied where his nose would be. It was directly pointed to her, staring. Sam felt a chill, and she forced herself to continue.

Her words were clumsy, and she felt frustrated at herself as she struggled to remember pronunciations. Sam had formally studied Latin for a year under a private tutor. Something her mother arranged when Sam had first expressed an interest in becoming a veterinarian. Medicine and biology had many roots in Latin, and it would be good to go ahead and study to make it easier later on, her mother said.

But this year of study was now nearly three years ago, and her memory was drawing a blank. The tips and tricks the tutor told her were scrambled in her brain, and the actual lessons were always so boring to begin with. How was she supposed to remember a dead language nobody spoke? Right now she could only truly remember how Danny had teased her over learning Latin, that she was slowly becoming more and more witchy every day. First going goth, then hanging out with a ghost, then the tarot cards, the Latin lessons.

"Sam?" Tucker's voice snapped her out of spacing out. She blinked. She didn't realize that she had stopped reading.

"Sorry, I'm just," she began to apologize, but she simply grew quiet. She continued to read.

The more she read, the more her old lessons had begun to click somewhat. Her voice became more confident as words became more familiar. She ignored the snapping sounds of the figure beginning to pick up his struggle again.

Why wouldn't he just give up already?

Sam did her best to focus on the phone, scrolling idly with her thumb as her eyes scanned each word. The leaves crunched softly each time Tucker shifted from foot to foot, waiting for his moment. She flinched as a particularly loud crack and horrible vocal noise echoed through the woods from the figure. She refused to look up, continuing to speak.

"Váde sátana, invéntor et magíster ómnis falláciae, hóstis humánae salútis. Da lócum Chrísto, in quo níhil invenísti de opéribus tuis; da loc-" She jumped as she was cut off by a piercing screech that was followed by another snapping.

She put her free hand to her specter deflector, wide frightened eyes staring. The corpse was jerking wildly, angrily and growling. Red eyes were visible despite the covering from underneath the blanket. With a horrible, quick snap of the neck, the head would turn to look between Tucker and Sam.

"I don't think it's working," Tucker told her. Sam's heavy heart was sinking. She didn't think so either, quite honestly. It didn't look like there was any signs of the ghost being in pain and wanting to leave. Just that it was just flaring up it's temper.

"...Let's at least finish out the thing," she said. She flicked her thumb against the webpage. "I'm almost done."

Tucker nodded, and he kept his eyes focused on the figure. Sam returned her attention to her phone, and she continued straight on until the end.

When she finished, she turned the phone screen off, slipping it into the hoodie's pocket as she stared at the figure. It continued to move wildly, angry.

It didn't work. Of course, rationally, it made sense. This was a ghost, not a demon, but she was hoping that it'd work. Why was she forced to look at those horrid red eyes instead of being able to watch her boyfriend's beautiful blue ones? The horrible cologne mixed with the permanent stench of death was becoming overwhelming.

She stared deep at those red eyes, that glow barely masked by the old blanket. They looked strangely...worn and depressed. Her heart went out to it, but not for long. Sam let her chest heave with a soft, deep breath. She felt a tear of frustration roll down her cheek as her legs buckled. She gave it, falling to her knees.

"...Please," her voice was so silent, it practically disappeared into the window. "Please leave him. Let him finally rest peacefully. He's been through enough. We've been through enough." The red eyes briefly vanished as the figure blinked before they lit up once more. Wide with curiosity. "_You've_ been through enough. It's time."

The figure's head bowed with a shameful crack. Mournful gasps came from the corpse as the specter inside seemed to become more and more distressed.

Her heart leaped with joy as her boyfriend's corpse glowed brightly. She watched closely as the familiar jumpsuited form left his body to float above him. Steady tears were streaming down his cheeks, and the ghost's depressed cries struck a sympathetic chord with her.

"I'm so sorry, Moony," was the only thing he was able to get out before a blue light hit him. There was no resistance as he was sucked into the thermos. Even as Tucker quickly capped it, there wasn't even a peep from the ghost.

"I'm sorry too," Sam found herself saying quietly. She stood, brushing the dirt and leaves off her tights. "Come on. We should go."

"What about…" Tucker's eyes fell on the corpse. Sam stared at it.

"...Let's take our stuff and just make an anonymous phone call to the police," she replied. Tucker nodded, and they began to clean up.


	7. Masquerade & Laboratory

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Day 7: Masquerade & Laboratory

It had all begun in the lab, and it would end in the lab.

Sam's footsteps echoed as she stepped down the stairs into the basement of FentonWorks. The star attraction was closed, the large metallic doors hiding the swirling green of the Ghost Zone.

This had to be done quickly. Jack and Maddie typically weren't out of the house long. She could hear Tucker walking around upstairs, constantly checking to make sure that neither came home unexpectedly.

She kept the thermos clutched tightly in her hands. Of course, they were always welcomed to the Fenton household whenever. Sam and Tucker were basically family. Down to knowing where the spare key was hidden outside and that the Fentons had a small emergency cash stash in their bedroom closet. But it just felt so differently now that Danny died, and with the mission at hand, she couldn't fathom how they'd distract the adults so that she could release this ghost back into the Ghost Zone.

Wow...Was the ghost portal always this big?

She stared up at the size, and she reached out to touch the sides of it. Her fingers grazed over the smooth surface before pushing the button to open the doors. It sometimes felt like only yesterday and other times like a lifetime ago. The accident that changed everything. What an adventure it had all been...

All the ghost fights, the action, the heroic acts. So many good deeds, endless unique memories of her high school years. The Fenton adults were around, but it was the three of them that protected Amity Park. Valerie held her own weight, but it was that trio that struck true fear into the cores of ghosts. Their presence, primarily Danny's, kept them at bay, and it was them who swooped in to kick butt.

Few could ever say that they dated a literal superhero either. This secret between the three of them...it was a powerful bond. Of course they were best friends before this, and she would remain best friends with Tucker long after this. But this brought them so close, closer than she'd ever imagine being to others.

The accident changed her entire life, and with that adventure came such a circus of hell.

Watching the two boys she loved so much getting scraped up and burned. The late nights coaxing Danny on the phone after suffering yet another nightmare. He had such complex PTSD that he could never seek help from without exposing everything. At sleepovers, she'd hear him wake up in hysterics or staring aimlessly out her window. All the anxiety attacks from Tucker, the fool who would just never stop trying to take hits for her and Danny, as she had to hold his hand and cover his eyes to get him to finally go to the damn doctor. Even last year when a horrible attack nearly destroyed his right knee that required surgical screws and rods to fix. He still took pain medicine to manage it on bad days. Scarily, Sam had become almost too good at patching them, and herself, up. It made her more determined to become a vet.

Amity Park didn't always appreciate their efforts. They constantly dumped on Danny and all of his sacrifices. Tucker and Sam were somewhat known only vaguely as Phantom's helpers, but they had sacrificed a lot as well. All of their grades suffered. To some extent, they had figured out a system. They would have all graduated and been able to go to college. But it was doubtful that they'd really be rolling around in scholarships. The lack of sleep, the exhaustion both mentally and physically.

And of course...it all led to this.

Was it all worth it? Worth _any_ of this?

Sam stared at the ghost portal, clutching the thermos tightly in her hands. She bit her lip, and she pushed her fist slowly against the closed button. The doors rumbled as they slid shut with a distinctive thud.

She couldn't do it.

There wasn't any way she could do it. Chuck the love of her life into this swirling portal to hell, this portal that ultimately lead to his death. This thing, deep down, it really was some hollowed shell of the Danny she knew. It was Phantom, not Fenton. But still, to abandon him here...To just toss him back in like discarded trash to be destroyed but his old enemies. She couldn't bear to do that to him.

This thing haunted her. It wasn't Danny. Danny would never treat her or Tucker like this, but she couldn't let this spectral stalker that looked and resembled him so much just be let loose.

She turned her back on the portal, and she walked up the stairs.

Tucker's footsteps hurried for the basement door, opening it when Sam had hit the halfway mark. Sam avoided eye contact.

"Did you do it?" he asked. Sam swallowed, and she shook her head no. She held out the thermos to him.

Tucker slowly came down a step, wincing. Sam jogged up the rest to hand it to him. He smiled a thanks, and he leaned against the wall, hand grasping the railing. They both stared at the thermos. It was silent.

"...Maybe it's best if we...don't…" Tucker said slowly. Sam blinked in surprise. He began to explain himself. "It'd just come back! The ghosts always come back. It'd just escalate, and." He paused, turning it over in his hand. "Not even just for our own sakes. I don't want Jazz to...you know. And it's just...I dunno."

She felt mild relief that they were on the same page. While he didn't say it, she could tell he was thinking the same as her: It wasn't Danny, but how can we still just do this to what used to be him?

"...We can always release him down the line," Sam finally spoke. Tucker only nodded.

* * *

They never released him. The thermos itself was locked, before it was locked again in a safe that only Tucker and Sam knew the combination to. Never once in her life did Sam ever seen the thermos move or shake, voices or anything come from it like she had seen ghosts before him do. It was silent and motionless. The years passed. Life moved on.

They went to the same college together there in Amity Park. Sam reprinted the tickets, and they followed Dumpty Humpty on tour as originally planned. After all...Danny wouldn't have wanted them to put their lives on hold because of his absence. On that trip, they ended up promising each other that it was time to retire from ghost hunting. Or retire as best as you could when you lived in Amity Park. But no more patrols, no more actively seeking out the danger. Losing one friend, they had both decided, was simply way too much already. Losing another would destroy them.

They both graduated, and then suffered together through graduate school as they worked towards their dreams: Forensic science and veterinary medicine. Jazz returned to Amity Park after finishing graduate school herself, freshly married to the love of her life. Before anybody knew it, Jack and Maddie were able to settle into a tear-jerkingly wonderful role: grandparents.

Tucker eventually met a girl and got married. Despite her claims that she could never love again after Danny, Sam did find somebody that she fell hard for, and she married too. Along with Jazz, they settled into their lives within America's most haunted city. Sure, ghosts were a common sighting. But it was home, and none of them could ever imagine a life anywhere else. They all remained close. Their children grew up with Jazz's, and they played together.

Over time, Jazz and her parents had all questioned, at least once a year, how they'd feel if they saw Danny's ghost. A natural curiosity and worry for the ghost hunting family. Jack and Maddie had continued their life's work with a surprisingly different attitude to it. More brutal, yet more sympathetic. But that was likely a natural reaction when you study ghosts and had to bury your child after their death at the hands of a ghost. Knowing that your baby boy died to a ghost, but also having that worry at the back of your mind of seeing them once more as a creature you openly hated.

Tucker and Sam always remained quiet during the Fentons' discussions on the matter, or they said minimal. They kept up their masquerade of being a bit curious, but overall disinterested. They did everything they could to even avoid the topic if possible. Of course they knew the truth, but they never spoke a word of it. Not even to Jazz.

Because after that final night, as they drove back to Sam's house, she and Tucker made a pact. They'd take that horror show they went through to their graves, forever leave the family clueless. There was no reason to ever utter a word about the experience anyway. Tucker and Sam knew Danny Fenton. He was their best friend for the entirety of their childhood and teenhood, the hero of Amity Park, like a brother to Tucker and Sam's first true love. And that thing that haunted them those October nights so many years ago just simply wasn't Danny Fenton anymore.


End file.
